


A Chance Meeting In Berlin

by Gourmet



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Community: pacificrimkink, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gourmet/pseuds/Gourmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hermann honestly had no idea how he’d gotten himself into this situation. "</p><p>In which Hermann and Newton actually met once before, almost ten years before becoming coworkers in the K-Science Division.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance Meeting In Berlin

**Author's Note:**

> Another one written for the following prompt on the pacificrimkink meme:  
> Hermann/Newt, Teenage Blowjob. [Full prompt here!](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2724429#t2724429)

Hermann honestly had no idea how he’d gotten himself into this situation.

It certainly hadn’t been his intention when he left campus for dinner. He had planned on eating alone at the bar like he usually did when the emptiness of his dorm room became atypically unbearable. He was eternally thankful he had a single room and therefore no roommate to be bothered by, but he was used to leaving his room a few times a day and finding family in some place or another. Leaving campus altogether was his way of dealing with those wayward bouts of homesickness that he was reluctant to call by name.

And really, Hermann should have walked right back out of the pub when he realized there were American students taking up a corner. The bar he tended to eat at was on the opposite side of the restaurant, but the Americans were loud, obnoxiously so, and Hermann knew he was not the only guest scowling in their direction. Apparently, however, he was the only guest that seemed to catch their attention. A few of them had nudged each other and nodded in his direction, snickering amongst themselves. But Hermann had long since grown used to the sort of negative attention his gangly appearance had always earned him, so he’d locked eyes with one of the girls and glared steadily until her ears turned red and she lifted a menu to hide behind.

Turning his nose up, victorious, Hermann had back to his plate and the book he’d carried along. And for all his bravado, he was not terribly surprised when, several minutes later, someone climbed into an empty stool beside him despite the number of other free places along the bar. He had hoped to avoid the part of the night where he walked back to the university with a black eye, but that did not seem to be an option now. But as much as he’d expected to be confronted, he _was_ surprised when he glanced over at his unwanted guest. He’d assumed it would be one of the larger boys, the one with the square jaw, or the one in a shirt far too tight for his size.

“Hey!”

Hermann stared. He hadn’t even noticed him at the table. He was…small. Too much hair and too large glasses, and Hermann lifted one eyebrow. He could not for the life of him fathom why this was their confronter of choice, and he refused to remark on the situation until he had a better understanding of it. Apparently undeterred by his silence, the other boy proceeded to fill it for them.

“Dude, what are you doing over here by yourself anyway? I mean, you don’t look that old. Your clothes definitely do, but you don’t. Are you waiting on people or what? Saw you staring down Heather – can’t say I blame you. Between you and me, she kinda yammers a lot, you know?” he prattled, jumping over words and questions at a rate that made Hermann immeasurably grateful he was not restricted to solely the German language. It was only when Hermann continued to sit in silence, however, that a similar thought seemed to come to the other boy. “Uh…do you understand me?”

It would have been easier to let him make a supposed fool out of himself, but Hermann felt he could do the job quite admirably. “That is debatable,” he offered tartly, though he only earned a grin for his troubles.

“Yeah? Awesome! Hey, call me Newt – everyone does. What’s your name, man?”

“I am trying to have dinner.”

 Call-Me-Newt nodded a few times, leaning far enough into Hermann’s personal space that he had to swing back a few inches to preserve that bubble. “What are you having? It looks good! I haven’t ordered yet or anything. You recommend this?”

“Can I help you?” Hermann snapped, straightening on his stool when Newt finally leaned back. He was not reassured by the shrug he was answered with.

“Uh, not really? I mean, I saw you sitting over here by yourself, so I figured I’d come introduce myself!” he explained, flashing another smile, which Hermann frowned at. “We just got into town, so we were looking for something to do, you know?”

Hermann understood that this was Newt’s way of trying to get information from him, undoubtedly on local establishments catering to the college students in the area – loud music and an abundance of alcohol. But he was not a tour guide, and he had no desire to offer assistance to the crowd of unruly foreigners who had steadily resumed talking over one another in the corner. “No. I don’t.”

Newt didn’t take the hint. “Oh, well I meant we were looking for, like, a bar or a club or something like that. I mean, we know there’s a school here, so there’s gotta be something like that nearby. Oh! You probably go there, right? Or are you travelling too? You don’t really sound German.”

“I do go to school here, but I do not know of any clubs. You will have to find entertainment on your own. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, tying off that unwanted conversation rather neatly in his opinion, before turning back to his plate.

But Newt didn’t leave. Worse, he ordered “Whatever that guy’s eating and a beer, yeah, just whatever that is!” and started swinging his feet.

“So….are you going to tell me your name?” he wheedled after a few minutes during which Hermann had attempted to eat and entirely ignore him.

“No.”

“Aw, come on! Why not?” Newt asked, laughing, though Hermann couldn’t see why. “Seriously, what harm is there? Afraid I’m gonna give your Facebook profile to Heather or something?”

Hermann snorted derisively. “I don’t have a Facebook,” he insisted on pointing out. That did not have the desired effect of putting the imbecile off of talking to him. It did the opposite, actually, as Newt launched into another tirade.

“Seriously? Why? I mean, you guys definitely get that here, right? Oh, dude, I’m sorry. Was it one of those things where you had, like, a really bad break up so you deactivated to get away from the drama or something? Because that’s totally understandable. Nice! Thanks!” he rambled, grinning widely at the waitress who set his plate in front of him.

“Newt,” Hermann finally conceded to using his name if only to shut him up. That, at least, seemed to do the trick for a few moments. “I am trying to have dinner, and I would like to read the book I brought with me. I’m sure your little friends over there would prefer your company.”

Newt was still smiling at him, but there was a subtle shift in his expression then. Hermann didn’t miss it. Growing up, if he wasn’t being harassed, he’d largely been ignored, and it was fascinating how much you could learn about watching people when they forgot you were there. The situation was finally starting to make a bit of sense. He may have been a part of their travelling group, but Newt was not truly one of their “friends.” Or at the very least, he was not as close to them as the others were with one another. Hermann had seen that plenty of times in school – the signs weren’t terribly hard to miss.

“Where are the lot of you even from?” he asked in a rare showing of compassion when Newt began blatantly fumbling for a response through rather disgustingly large bites of his dinner. “Do not talk to me with your mouth full!” he snapped when a garbled response answered him.

Newt swallowed and offered him a more sheepish smile. “Sorry. I said Massachusetts. From MIT!” he explained, sitting a little taller, and something like pride – or perhaps preening – developed in his expression.

Hermann glanced back towards the table, considering the faces and builds there for a moment  before turning the same calculating expression on Newt. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen!” he exclaimed, grinning outright again, as if pleased Hermann had noticed how he looked notably younger than his companions. There was more to the story than that simple statement of age; Hermann could tell by the way Newt fairly vibrated in the seat next to him. As if he was practiced at this conversation, and he was simply waiting for Hermann to follow up with the next, most obvious series of questions.

“Ah,” he’d offered instead, smirking a bit when Newt barely caught himself from answering a question Hermann hadn’t bothered to ask.

Newt only faltered for a beat or two, however, before he pushed his glasses up and took a long drink of his beer. “So, seriously, do you have anything to do around here?”

“I don’t waste my time with the night life of the area,” he stated simply, ignoring the curious stare he could feel against the side of his head. But he was spared from another question when the chattering in the corner turned into raucous laughter, interspersed with the shriek of chairs being pushed away from their tables.

Newt turned his head a beat after Hermann, watching the group climb onto their feet. They were nearly to the door when someone, a girl at Heather’s side, glanced over her shoulder. “See you at the hotel, Newt,” she called, and then they were out, and the pub was graciously quiet.

It only took a few moments before Newt started squirming on his stool, catching a rung with his foot so he could bounce his knee. Hermann sighed. He could pay his bill and bid his own farewell now if he cared to. Then he could go back to his dorm and his studies and put the entire night behind him. But Newt’s ears had turned red, and there was a horrible part of him that empathized on a deeper level than he cared to admit, so he’d sighed again, heavier, and wiped his mouth.

“There is a bar near the campus. I can show you on my way back,” he offered, quite graciously at that, and the expression on Newt’s face when he looked towards him was so startled, so unguardedly grateful, that Hermann didn’t even regret the offer right away.

“So are you finally going to tell me your name now?” Newt asked. “I mean, you can give me a fake name or something if you want, just so I don’t have to call you ‘hey guy’ all night. But be warned, dude, I will definitely know if you try to pull some kind of superhero alias name on me.”

Hermann waited for him to shut himself up with the last of his food before he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “Hermann,” he finally said, passing money over to cover his bill when it was brought to him.

“Hermann?” Newt repeated, pulling out a wallet and digging several euros from it. “That’s a way better superhero alias than Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne. Seriously, man, if you wanted to be a hero, nobody would suspect a thing. By the way, how old are you? Cause, you really don’t look old, but you talk like you’re sixty or something.”

“Thank you for that,” he offered dryly, tucking his change away and picking his book up as he climbed off the stool, expecting Newt to follow. And, sure enough, he only made it a few steps away before Newt was at his elbow.

He started regretting his offer to show Newt to the bar when they reached it. “I am not _staying_ ,” he insisted, again, letting out an affronted gasp when his wrist was grabbed and he was bodily pulled towards the doors.

“Come oooon! What else do you have to do? It’s Friday! You can at least have one drink with me!” Newt insisted, tugging until Hermann had no choice but to stumble after him.

Hermann scowled at him when his wrist was released only after he’d been dragged all the way to the bar proper. “Are all you Americans really this obnoxious?” he demanded, pulling himself up into a seat if only to keep from being bodily lifted into it. He didn’t really believe Newt could accomplish that with his stature, but he wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t try.

Newt laughed, hopping up onto the seat next to him and ordering two beers from the bartender in…quite good German, actually. “Well, the short answer is yeah,” he said, winking at him quite unnecessarily. “The more complicated, gotcha answer, is that I was born here!”

“Here?” Hermann repeated, staring at him.

“Yeah, here in Berlin. Crazy, huh? It’s why I wanted to come here for the school program. I haven’t been here in years!”

Hermann wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that, so he snorted and, once their drinks were set down in front of them, he opted to tap the rim of his glass against his. “ _Wilkommen zuhause_ ,” he offered, shaking his head over his beer when Newt beamed at him. And loathe though he was to admit it, Hermann stayed for several more beers. And it wasn’t awful. He was surprised to find that under the run on sentences and pop culture references, Newt was actually quite intelligent. It was enough to convince him to continue sitting at the bar with him, at least.

Ultimately, however, Hermann was the one to insist he’d had enough of the bar. He frowned when he found his hand sticky from an overfilled glass, and he climbed off his stool. “I’m going to wash my hands. I can direct you to your hotel on the way out,” he offered, snorting at the abysmal salute Newt offered him before stepping around the bar, curling his lip just a bit as he passed between considerably more drunken patrons on his way to the restroom. That, at least, was welcomingly empty.

Hermann didn’t bother looking up from the sink when he heard the door swing open behind him a few moments later. It was a public restroom, after all, and he didn’t particularly care to make eye contact with some drunken hooligan fumbling his dick from his pants. He did, however, shout when there were suddenly hands grabbing him by the hips, and it was only a startled glance in the mirror that kept him from slamming his elbow back into his attacker’s nose.

“Newt! What the hell are you doing?!” he demanded, shoving the faucet off and shoving Newt’s hands off his hips so he could move aside and dry his hands.

“Whoa, dude, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he insisted, holding his hands up, but when Hermann stepped forward, he dropped them to his hips again.

Hermann shot them both a narrow-eyed stare. “What are you doing?” he snapped again, though his irritation fumbled in favor of surprise when he was tugged forward. And it wasn’t until Newt was locking them in a stall that his temper managed to override his confusion. “Newt!”

“Yeesh, calm down, man,” Newt insisted, dropping onto his knees, and Hermann was briefly afraid he was going to lurch over the toilet and start vomiting. He wanted no part in that. Honestly, though, they hadn’t been drinking _that_ much. There was a pleasant buzzing in the back of his head, but that was the extent of it, and even with the extra beer from dinner and his slighter stature, Hermann couldn’t honestly believe Newt had reached that level of drunkenness.

The situation made a bit more sense when Newt reached up and started working his belt open. Well, that wasn’t true. It made no sense at all, but Hermann at least understood his intentions. And he promptly slapped Newt’s hands away. “What is the matter with you?! Get on your feet this instant!” he snapped, reaching down to try and pull Newt back up.

Newt batted his hands away in turn before reaching for his belt again, managing to get the ends unfastened, and Hermann could feel heat rising in his face when the belt was left hanging open at the front of his pants. “Calm down, would you? I’m just trying to thank you,” he insisted, heaving a hard, dramatic sigh when Hermann caught his hands before he could get to his zipper.

“A simple thank you will suffice! Now get up,” he demanded again.

“What? No way! This is a way better thank you.”

Hermann had no idea how he was supposed to reason with this. “What even makes you think I’m a homosexual?”

Newt snorted and shrugged. “Who cares? You don’t have to be gay to like someone sucking your dick. Chalk it up to experience if you haven’t been with a guy before,” he suggested.

“Newt, you will get on your feet this i-instant!” Hermann wasn’t proud of the way his voice swept up into a choked little gasp when Newt chose to ignore him and lean forward instead, pressing his mouth over him through his pants.

His breath was hot, even through the material, and Newt mouthed his way over the shape of his crotch until Hermann’s cock twitched beneath his lips. He felt more than he saw Newt start grinning before he twisted his hands. He didn’t, however, pull them free as Hermann had expected. Instead, Newt turned them over and curled his fingers around Hermann’s wrists, pressing them back against the side of the stall. He tilted his head then so he could nuzzle his cheek against him, and Hermann was briefly stunned, staring wide-eyed down at him.

Good lord, what was happening?

“N-Newt,” he tried, intending to protest, but his voice sounded embarrassingly rough even to his own ears, and Newt grinned up at him, before running his tongue up over the seam of his pants, and Hermann’s hips jerked.

One of his wrists was eventually freed so Newt could unfasten his pants, and Hermann’s hand fluttered beside him, unsure of what to do. “Someone could come in!” he finally argued, hissing and pressing his eyes briefly shut when Newt dipped his hand into his boxers to draw him out.

“It’s a bar, who cares?” he said, shrugging one shoulder before leaning forward, and when Newt took him between his lips, Hermann pressed his head hard back against the wall. His fingers twitched in the air for another moment or two before ultimately sinking into Newt’s hair, and he was rewarded with a moan that vibrated around his cock.

Newt squeezed his fingers around his wrist, wrapping the other hand around the base of Hermann’s erection as he slid further down onto him. Hermann forced his eyes open and immediately tilted his head down to watch, feeling heat flood his face – among other places – as he watched the seal of Newt’s lips move slowly down over him. This had never happened before. And for all the shrieking of his good sense, that this was horrendously unsanitary, potentially dangerous, near exhibitionism, he was too enthralled by the sight of Newt on his knees between his feet and the feeling of his tongue curling around him.

His cock throbbed, and a moan stumbled out of him, fingers clenching reflexively in Newt’s hair. It earned him another murmur of approval, and he jerked slightly when Newt’s thumb began stroking over the inside of his wrist. Hermann swallowed hard, pulse beating rapidly against pad of Newt’s thumb, and a trembling had started in his thighs. He was mortified by how quickly the found himself climbing up to his peak, but he couldn’t have stopped it. He had no experience, and Newt had started bobbing his head, lips coming all the way back to the wet tip of his cock before sliding back down, nearly to the circle of his fingers keeping him steady.

It only lasted a few short minutes longer, as long as Hermann managed to control himself, before he pulled his fingers out of Newt’s hair and clapped them over his mouth, shouting into his own palm when his hips jerked, and he came on Newt’s tongue. He had a moment to feel guilty that he hadn’t warned him – that was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it? – but Newt swallowed around him without complaint, and he was grinning when he let go of Hermann’s hip to wipe his mouth.

“See? Way better than just saying thank you,” he said, letting go of Hermann’s wrist after a moment, and he even went so far as to right his clothes for him again. That saved them a fair bit of time, because Hermann was still catching his breath when Newt stood up, staring at him while he tried to make sense of the last fifteen minutes.

“Wh-Why did you…?”

Newt glanced up, adjusting himself in his own pants, and he shrugged again. “I wanted to. Plus, you totally looked like you could use it, and you walked me around, so why not?” he said, grinning. Hermann nodded slowly, uncertain of what else to say. He had an inkling that the other polite thing to do would be to offer to…well, return the favor somehow, but the thought made his throat constrict in barely withheld panic, and thankfully Newt didn’t so much as hint at such a thing, already unlocking the stall and leading the way out.

Hermann stared after him for a moment, glancing dumbly around the stall before the rest of his brain finally seemed to step up, guiding his feet to follow along after Newt, out of the bathroom and through the bar until they were standing out on the sidewalk again. Clearing his throat, Hermann motioned slightly down the street. “Your hotel is about four blocks that way. It’ll be on a corner on the left from here,” he said, pleased that his mind had settled enough to remember the conversations they’d been having before the incident, as it were.

“Oh, yeah? Nice! That’s not bad,” Newt said, looking that way and bobbing his head. “Well, hey, thanks, Hermann. It was nice to – oh, fuck, where’s your…? Just a second!”

Before Hermann had the chance to ask what the hell he was on about this time, Newt was diving back into the bar, leaving Hermann to frown at the doors and around the street. Perhaps in the morning he could chalk the entire event up consuming a bit more alcohol than he’d initially allowed himself to believe.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes, thankfully, before Newt returned, and he was brandishing Hermann’s book in one hand when he rejoined him on the sidewalk. “There ya go! Guess we left it at the bar.”

“….Thank you, Newt,” he offered, taking the book back and staring down at it for a moment before looking up again when Newt continued talking.

“No problem! Well, I guess I should finally let you go back to your place, huh? But seriously, dude, thanks for hanging out! I’ll try and track you down again or something before I leave!”

Hermann nodded slightly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. He honestly wasn’t sure he wanted to see Newt again, but he also couldn’t deny that there wasn’t some modicum of appeal to the idea. “Yes, well. If not, travel safely,” he finally said, holding a hand out, and while Newt snorted and smirked, he did take his hand and shake it firmly before heading down the street in the direction Hermann had pointed him.

In the end, they didn’t see each other again before Newt left. Hermann had toyed once or twice with the idea of going to dinner back at the pub or stopping in for just one beer at the bar, just to see, but he ultimately decided there was no reason to draw out something that, quite simply, _wasn’t_. So he washed his hands of the entire situation and let that night fade over the years into a hazy and somewhat embarrassing, but not horrible memory.

Almost a decade later, his work had become his life, and monsters had risen vast and violent out of the Pacific Ocean. He was happy, in his way, to devote himself to the cause of the PPDC. He believed in the Jaeger program, and he believed in what he and his equations had to offer. And, judging by his academic papers alone, Hermann believed Dr. Geiszler would be equally useful to the K-Science Division after they were informed of his upcoming arrival. Hermann had been following his work as it was released in the scientific and military communities, and it really was essential for them to have the help of the world’s foremost kaiju expert if they expected to have any hope of defeating them.

But when Dr. Newton Geiszler had been introduced to his team, Hermann had felt the alarms going off in the back of his mind before he realized what they were trying to warn him of. There was something about the set of his glasses and the cant of his grin that had Hermann frowning through Marshal Pentecost’s formal presentation on Dr. Geiszler’s behalf. He didn’t hear much of what was said, and honestly he doubted it was anything he hadn’t already read about the man’s work on his own, but he still scowled and scrutinized from his seat, only blinking his way back to attention when something caught his ear.

“– from his teaching position at MIT to continue his research and assist us with our efforts here,” Pentecost said. “Come and make introductions and see to it that Dr. Geiszler reaches his lab in one piece,” he added before turning to the shorter man and explaining, in quieter tones, that he had to be present for another conference, but Dr. Geiszler had waved a hand, insisted he could take care of himself, and then Pentecost was gone and Dr. Geiszler was forcing himself onto anyone at the table for proper introductions.

“No, no, seriously, just call me Newt!” Dr. Geiszler insisted, laughing at the front of the table, and Herman felt the jolt of recognition sear through him sharp and fast enough to leave him minutely disoriented.

Hermann didn’t move immediately from his seat, rooted there by shock and disbelief, and unfortunately it didn’t take long for Dr. Geiszler to make his way around to his seat. He thrust a hand out, all smiles and, good Lord, was that a tattoo? “Newt Geiszler,” he offered, as if it were still necessary for him to announce his name to everyone in the room individually.

He saw no immediate recognition reflected on Dr. Geiszler’s face, so he grabbed his cane, leveraged himself onto his feet, and shook the hand held out to him. “Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. A pleasure.”

Looking back on that moment, Hermann liked to think it was his name or the handshake and not his particular syntax that made Dr. Geiszler’s eyes light up and flash behind the frames of his glasses. But one could really never tell with Newton Geiszler.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Hermann.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this is it for this one, but who the hell knows? There may be a follow up on the horizon! In either case, I hope you liked it! If tumblr is your thing, you can find me there at [snowfell.tumblr.com!](http://snowfell.tumblr.com/)


End file.
